


You Know You've Yet

by inalasahl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gabriel Big Bang Challenge, Gabriel Big Bang Challenge 2012, M/M, community: gabriel_bigbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/pseuds/inalasahl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam goes back in time to get Gabriel's blood to save Dean. But the two of them have a history no one knows about, and Gabriel demands a favor in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know You've Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks go to llaras, who qualifies for sainthood. For more details about the rape/non-con warning, see the end notes.
> 
> Art by [rubystandish.](http://rubysparrow.deviantart.com/art/You-Know-You-ve-Yet-Banner-292525947) Written for the [Gabriel Big Bang.](http://gabriel_bigbang.livejournal.com/)
> 
> Title from "With the Benefit of Hindsight" by We Were Promised Jetpacks.

[ ](http://rubysparrow.deviantart.com/art/You-Know-You-ve-Yet-Banner-292525947)

Sam awoke from a dreamless sleep and blinked his eyes open to behold a thin gray dawn peeking around the closed curtains of the motel room. He rarely slept so soundly through the night, and he eyed Castiel suspiciously as he got out of bed. Cas sat at the motel room table, watching video footage of Dick Roman's field stream by at a rate too fast for Sam to follow, just as he had been when Sam went to bed. 

Dean sat on the second bed rather than at the table, computer in his lap, as far from Castiel as he could get and still be in the same room. Like Cas, that was how Dean had been last night when Sam had laid down. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?" Sam asked, as he stood and stretched. Dean shrugged the question off, which was as good as saying no.

"Did he put me to sleep last night?" Sam asked.

Dean and Castiel both snapped their heads up at that. "I would never let that happen," Dean said.

"Your brain is off-limits. Even if I think it would help." That could be Cas being typically elliptical or Cas not wanting to say. Sam studied him for a moment, reading regret in his face, but that could go either way, since they both knew it was Cas's fault Sam still had nightmares most nights.

Sam decided to put it out of his mind. "You didn't stay up all night to watch him?" he asked Dean. "I don't think we need to do that, but we could take shifts, Dean."

"I'm fine, Sam," Dean said. "It's just one night."

Sam couldn't see what Dean was working on. "Are you still fast-forwarding through the video footage of that field?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean said. "It's a waste of time." Sam looked over at Castiel, who obviously was still combing the footage. Castiel didn't react and the images continued to blur by on the screen as if he hadn't heard.

Castiel had gotten well enough the asylum wouldn't let him stay, but both the demons and the Leviathan were after him for the knowledge that might still be locked in his head about any weaknesses the Leviathans might have. He still had hallucinations of Lucifer, and constantly fighting them kept his powers weak. He had tried to return to the safety of Heaven, but he'd shown up in the Winchesters' motel room disheveled and bruised, saying only that he was not welcome in Heaven.

It was Sam who had suggested they let him stay with them. They needed all the help they could get. It was possible Castiel could recover useful memories of the Leviathan, and too, Sam remembered all too well how desperately sometimes one needed to be doing something to help, to fix the thing you'd broken. Cas was the one who'd brought the Leviathan to Earth, and he needed to help get rid of them.

Dean had been less forgiving. He'd searched Sam's face carefully before agreeing and said six sentences to Castiel without looking at him, the only time he'd talked to him since that Sam was aware of. "If you're here, then you're here. If you're gone, you're gone. If you even think about eavesdropping invisibly—"

"I won't," Castiel had said.

"— and if you lay a finger on Sam —"

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but I would never hurt—"

"I don't care if you think it's for his own good!"

"Sam's brain is off-limits. I understand, Dean," Castiel had said.

"We're leaving in ten minutes," Dean had said and slammed his way out of the room to pack his duffel into the car.

That had been a week ago, and Sam worried his brother hadn't thawed yet. Sam imagined the two of them sitting up all night together, never speaking, and he wished there was something he could do. But this was one stalemate they'd have to work out on their own. If they ever did. Castiel had betrayed them both, but Sam was sure his brother felt an obligation to stay angry because of what Castiel had done to Sam in breaking the wall. Dean could have started forgiving the rest, if it weren't for that. He wished he hadn't said anything when he woke up. 

Sam stretched, wondered if he had time for a run. "What time is it?"

"Eight a.m. You want to get breakfast?"

Sam leaned over Dean's shoulder to check out the news article Dean was reading. "Dick Roman announces Super PAC."

"The more he puts himself out there, the harder it's going to be for us to get to him," Dean said.

"We'll figure it out."

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be," Dean said. "The monsters are supposed to hide."

"We do have the advantage of knowing who he is and where he is," Sam said. "We could give him the Borax treatment, cut off his head and box him."

"Then what? The other Leviathan scatter, and it's that much harder to get rid of them. We shouldn't make a move until we know what they're planning in that field aside from that curing cancer b.s." He closed the laptop. "Breakfast?"

"I'm going to go for a run," Sam said. "Bring me back something?"

"Sure," Dean said. He hesitated. "Don't be too long. We should pack up and head out of town today. We've been here two weeks. Don't want to push our luck."

Sam sighed. It'd been nice, having a breather to do some research. They desperately needed the time now they didn't have Frank working for them. They hadn't found a lot of restful places to stop, but Dean was right. They'd been in town long enough for the locals to start remembering them and who knew what kind of feelers someone with Dick Roman's reach would have out?

* * *

When Sam came back from his run, Dean was reading the paper over his breakfast. "Disappearances in Soda Springs, Sam," he said.

Sam shrugged. Soda Springs was as good as any place to go. He picked up the newspaper and quickly scanned it. Weird lights, time distortions … "This sounds like fairies," he said. "We might not be able to do anything except teach the locals to spread rice or salt around."

"I can kill them when they're on this plane," Castiel spoke up.

Castiel was making his way through the video footage faster than either of them could have. Sam looked at Dean. "We haven't found anything yet on the video footage," he said. "He's been going through it pretty fast, probably only has a couple of days searching before he finishes watching it all."

Letting Cas hunt with them would be a tacit gesture of confidence in Dean's mind. A hunter's way of saying, I trust you to watch my back. For a long moment, Dean didn't say anything. Then he nodded. "You packed, Sam? We should get going." Dean stood up, apparently done with his breakfast. He looked at Cas. "Back seat, no talking."

"Hand me my laptop, Cas." Sam said. "You aren't going to need it when we get there."

* * *

After talking to a few locals, the disappearances seemed centered around a shoe store. They waited until nightfall, and then crept in with extra rock salt in their pockets just in case something went wrong with Cas's powers. Getting into the building was easy; the alarm wasn't even on. They entered through the front of the store, lined with rows and rows of high shelves full of shoes. Quiet talking could be heard from the back store room.

Sam peered around the door frame. It wasn't fairies. Instead, there were a pair of Leviathan in the back room, calmly munching away on what appeared to be a couple of legs smothered in cheese sauce. He waved off Dean and Cas, knowing they needed to regroup, and started to back away, when Dean's cell phone started vibrating and all hell broke loose.

The sound was faint, barely detectable to Sam, but the Leviathan farther away heard it. He watched their heads snap up and turned to run. They had no Borax on them, no axes or swords, and that was stupid, stupid. A loud whoosh filled his ears and he found his way forward blocked by a wall of flame. Reflexively, he pressed down hard on his hand, running through the fire, telling himself the burn wasn't real, though he hadn't had hallucinations since Castiel had taken them. "Sam, stop, drop and roll," Dean screamed, and that's when Sam realized his clothes had caught fire for real. He'd really jumped through a flame. He rolled until the fire was out and got back on his feet as quickly as he could.

One of the Leviathan was pointing a gun at him, the other one at Dean, who had almost reached the door. Sam himself was standing just outside of a flaming circle surrounding Castiel. Dean seemed unharmed, lucky enough to be on the right side of the oil when it went up.

"So, you're the Winchesters. I pictured this being a lot more difficult," the Leviathan sneered. "The boss said you wouldn't be able to resist dragging your pet angel along if we made it look like fairies, but I didn't think we'd be lucky enough that you'd just walk into the center of a holy oil ring without a little encouragement." He looked at Cas almost regretfully. "I'm sorry it had to come to this," he said. "A lot of us are really grateful for all you've done for us, but the boss heard you'd hooked up with these two and we can't allow you to tell them anything."

Sam pushed aside the pain he could still feel from the fire, trying to think of a way out. The other Leviathan slowly lowered the gun he had pointed at Dean. "We're supposed to shoot them," the one facing Sam said.

"Shoot them. Eat them. What difference does it make? I'm hungry."

"The boss said—"

"The boss, the boss," the Leviathan sounded way too human as he rolled his eyes. "How's he going to know unless you blab?" He opened his mouth.

The Leviathan facing Sam turned to him. "Do you want to get bibbed?" Sam took advantage of the distraction and _dove,_ breaking the fire line with his hand, gasping at the pain that engulfed it. He felt Castiel grab him and then he blinked and they were all three in their car.

Dean whimpered as he put his foot down on the gas pedal, and the car screeched away. Was he shot?

"Dean?" Sam said.

"Heal him," Dean snapped. Sam felt a hand on the back of his head, and the pain he'd been trying to ignore melted away.

"Do Dean," Sam said.

Castiel reached over and placed a hand on Dean, but the pain on Dean's face didn't ease up. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Castiel answered. "There's a taint. I can't. I can't heal him."

"It still hurts," Dean said.

"What happened?"

"That ass bit me. Probably gave me the equivalent of Leviathan rabies."

"You can't drive like that. Cas, can you take us—"

"All our stuff's in this car," Dean cut him off. "We're not leaving it for them to find."

"Then pull over so we can look at it."

"Not yet."

"Dean—"

"Shut up and let me drive."

* * *

Dean drove on for a scary 20 miles before he considered it safe enough to pull over so they could take a look. Long miles where Sam had nothing to do, but watch as sweat broke out on Dean's forehead, and Dean chewed his lip to hold in groans of pain every time he shifted his leg.

Eventually, he pulled over and lay down in the backseat on his stomach, his leg sticking out of the open car door. His pants were ripped, allowing Sam's flashlight a clear view of the back of his leg. The flesh was torn around the wound site, but not gaping. Castiel had been able to do that much, but at the site of the bite there were visible tooth marks. The skin was inflamed and a dark stain led away from it in a familiar line. Sam hadn't seen it in real life before, but he recognized the look even though he thought there was something off about it. "Blood poisoning," he said. "I don't know how it could spread so fast, but it's already halfway up your leg."

Sam got a needle and peroxide out of the first aid kit. He poured peroxide over the wound and frowned as nothing happened. It should have foamed up in the presence of infection. "Was that holy water?" Dean asked, and Sam realized that it hadn't even stung his brother.

"Peroxide," Sam said.

Castiel reached out, and Sam watched as he tried to heal Dean again. The line retreated an inch, but didn't disappear and the skin remained as inflamed as ever.

"You losing your juice, Cas?" Dean said. Sam watched Cas startle as Dean spoke to him normally for once.

"It's not a typical infection," Cas answered. "It's—" He stopped.

Sam looked harder at the leg and realized then what had seemed off about it. "It's black, Dean," he said. "Not red. I think you've got some of _them_ inside you."

Dean inhaled a shaky breath, then slowly let it out. "You think it's taking me?"

"What? No!"

"Sam, you can't let me become one of them. You're going to have to—" Castiel laid a hand on Dean and his brother lapsed into unconsciousness.

"Cas, you know he's going to be mad you—"

"We are not killing him," Castiel said fiercely.

"I know, Cas," Sam said. "I know."

Dean's phone started vibrating again, the sound loud on the deserted highway. Only then did Sam remember the earlier call that had alerted the Leviathan they were there. He dug the phone out of Dean's pocket and snapped it open without looking to see who it was. "You better have a damn good reason for calling," he snarled.

"Sam?" Jody sounded puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said. "What's up?"

"I've been looking through Bobby's old books when I had time, like Dean asked, and I found one with a drawing—it looks like that monster from the hospital, but I can't read the language."

Please, Sam thought. "Where are you?"

"Home, why?"

"I'm sending a friend to pick it up."

He hung up the phone, quickly telling Cas where Jody lived. "Go," he said to Castiel. "I'm going to stitch this up. At least that will keep him from bleeding to death."

"I'm sorry," Cas said.

"Just get the book," Sam replied.

Sam had barely gotten the needle threaded when Cas was back, book in hand. The book was old, not on paper, and something told Sam it was written in blood. "Can you read it?"

Castiel's fingers were tracing over the words on a page that Sam could see definitely had a wide-mouthed Leviathan drawn on it. "It's Enochian," Cas said, wonderingly. "How could a human—"

"Just read it, Cas,"

"It talks of my fa—God banning the Leviathan from Earth, because he thought they would consume it all. But he built in a failsafe to ensure that if they ever escaped, they could be gotten rid of. A deadly poison that could kill them and cure those they'd infected."

"How could you not know about that?"

"I was a garrison soldier, Sam. We knew only what we were told, what was important for us to be told. Leviathan have not been a threat in my memory."

"Well, what is it?"

Cas looked back down at the book. "There's a ritual. The children must work together to create—"

There was a dull thud as Castiel's foot crashed into the hubcap, denting it. "Not good news?"

"Angels and humans," Castiel said. "Specifically, the ritual needs the blood of an archangel in a human vessel."

"An archangel, are you sure? Maybe your blood—"

"The text is very specific. The highest of the high, the First."

"But there are two kinds of archangels, right? First of all in the hierarchy and first in the lowest choir. Maybe—"

"Not in Enochian," Castiel said. "The two words are quite different. There are only four beings it could refer to. Raphael and Gabriel are dead." Sam managed not to react at the mention of Gabriel's name. It was an old wound, long since pasted over. Dean didn't know about it, didn't need to know about it, and Sam meant to take that secret with him to his grave.

"And Michael and Lucifer are in the cage," Sam finished. "There has to be some place they left their blood behind."

Thinking about Gabriel reminded him of the amulet he'd fished out of the trash years ago on that horrible day. Things might have been different if it could really have been used to find God.

Gods! He startled at a memory. "Elysian Fields," he said.

"What?"

"The hotel where Gabriel died. They took our blood. Maybe his, too."

"They all died, Sam. All except—"

"Kali."

"It's too dangerous. If you attempted to speak to her, she's as likely to kill you as the Leviathan. And she won't acknowledge me at all, I'm sure."

"We saved her life. That has to count for something. It's worth a try."

"You know Dean would agree with me."

"So don't tell him," Sam said, returning to the stitches, thinking. He'd done a lot more desperate things on a lot smaller chance over the years than to try to talk to a god. It wouldn't hurt to try. They were running out of time.

"I've got a better idea. I should have enough power to send you back in time long enough to get Gabriel's blood."

"He wouldn't just give it to me."

"You and I both know that's not true." Sam's head snapped up at the knowing tone in Castiel's voice. He knew? All of this time he had known?

"It's still there?" Sam asked. "Even though he's dead?"

"I believe so," Castiel said. "I can't sense the claim he has, the favor you're owed. A pagan god's debt to a human is beyond my normal senses. But I felt it last year when I touched your soul. I don't recall anything happening since then that could have broken it."

"You really think you have enough power to send me back in time? You shouldn't have hidden that from us," Sam said.

"I wasn't trying to hide it. I don't know everything about human emotions," Cas said. "But I know that Dean thinks about my betrayal every time he looks at me. Why would I bring up anything that reminds him, also?"

"We should get back on the road," Sam said finally. "Find someplace safe for you to hole up with Dean when you send me back."

"We need to go to Elysian Fields. I don't think I'm strong enough to send you through both time and space."

"Why there?"

"It's the most recent place we know Gabriel was, and the only time and place after your deal where we know for sure Gabriel's going to be. I don't think we can chance trying to send you back farther. I'm getting stronger, but not that strong."

* * *

Sam was surprised to see the hotel was still there and seemingly undisturbed when they got to town. It was an abandoned ruin, nothing like a building that had been in use only a few years earlier, but he could still see blood stains around the place as they looked for the hotel's old laundry room. It was as good as any place for what they had to do, and Sam felt safer there, with Dean and Cas surrounded by an easily reached supply of leftover Borax.

Sam lay down a sleeping bag on the floor for Castiel to set Dean on. "How long is he going stay out?" Sam asked.

"As long as we need him to." He looked at Sam. "There's only one time and place after your deal where we know Gabriel's going to be. It will be dangerous for you. The gods jealously guard their territories. They won't take kindly to someone from the future, even if you have no intention of changing their timelines." He stared at Sam. "You can't try to change your own futures either. Changing the past like that isn't possible, and if you try there are forces that will step in to stop you if it seems you might be successful. You don't want that kind of attention."

"How much time will I have?"

"If I'm to maintain enough power to keep the infection from advancing in the meantime, I'll have to fetch you in an hour unless Gabriel sends you back himself first. It would be better if you could convince him to do that."

Sam nodded. "I'm ready," he said. His heart pounding, he tracked Castiel's hand reaching toward him and thought back to the one time he'd sought out Gabriel's help. The time Dean didn't know about. The time he'd earned a favor from the trickster archangel.

2010

"I don't need this anymore," Castiel said, tossing the amulet to Dean. The angel looked beaten. Human. "It's worthless." 

"Cas, wait —" Sam felt tears pricking at his eyes as Castiel walked out of the motel room. It wasn't hopeless. It couldn't be. "We'll find another way. We can still stop all this, Dean."

"How?"

Sam turned to Dean. "I don't know, but we'll find it." Dean just stared at Sam, a skeptical look on his face. He looked little better than Cas. Sam knew he'd screwed up. He'd screwed up badly. But Dean had to still be with him in this. Dean was the one thing he'd had when he'd lost everything — his father, Jess. If Dean didn't believe in him anymore — Sam cut the thought off before it could poison his brain. No. Whatever else they lost, the two of them had each other. There was a way to stop the apocalypse, and they'd find it, Winchesters against the world. Hadn't it always been that way anyway? Today was just another Thursday. "You and me. We'll find it."

Dean didn't say a word. He looked down at the amulet and picked up his duffel, avoiding eye contact with Sam. Dean walked to the door, pausing to look down once more at the amulet still in his hand. The amulet Sam gave him to show that he knew Dean would always be there for him. The amulet Dean had worn every day of his life since then. The amulet that Sam had worn those long months when Dean had been dead. The amulet that meant they were family, would always be family, would always have each other.

Dean dropped it in the trash and walked out, and that's when Sam formed a desperate plan.

Sam thought the hardest part of locating the trickster, Gabriel, whatever, would be hiding the search from Dean and Castiel, but Castiel did not care about anything these days, and Dean, well, he'd been brotherly by rote lately, mocking Sam for his salads or his hair as if he were reading lines. It was exactly the same tone Dean used to lie to adults when they were kids. So, Dean didn't ask many questions, or really care much about what Sam did. Just forced himself through a script a couple of times a day and then seemed to put Sam out of his mind. Sam didn't care. It was just temporary until he located Gabriel, and Sam wondered why it never occurred to him before that Gabriel could fix all this, turn the clock back, as he had done after the Mystery Spot. 

Sam had learned a little from that first search. This one didn't take him three months. Dean shrugged when Sam suggested a hunt in Butte, didn't even ask what it was, just headed for the I-90. When they got there, Sam didn't bother making an excuse. He wandered away from the motel as Dean and Castiel checked in, knowing that they would not miss him for awhile, and hopefully everything would be fixed by then. He already had what he needed, everything except a quiet location away from prying eyes.

* * *

2009

"Don't say I never did anything for you," Dean Winchester said and walked out. It only took a few minutes for the sprinklers to put the fire out, but a few minutes was more than enough time for Gabriel to think. The Winchesters were bigger pains-in-the-ass than he'd realized. They wouldn't just lay down for Michael and Lucifer. Maybe it was still possible to fix things. But he'd need an ally. He went to one of his favorite places and reached out his grace, searching, calling, letting his brother come to him rather than going to him and possibly being mistaken as a threat to Raphael's charge.

"Gabriel. Why have you called me away?" Raphael's voice was deep and uninflected; his face expressionless as he settled himself beneath the alpenglow of the Sangre de Cristos.. Gabriel ignored the pang of disappointment and told himself that his brother was just being cautious, putting on a show. He knew Raphael was protecting a prophet and had hoped that perhaps living among humans might have influenced him in some small way.

No matter. Gabriel could take the first step. He grinned puckishly, openly showcasing his emotions. "Don't I get a hug?"

"You left," Raphael hissed. "You made your feelings quite clear when you ran away and left me and Michael alone. Don't expect me to welcome you back with open arms so easily."

"You know why I left," Gabriel said. "I couldn't—"

"Enough. Let's not pretend you just popped up for the first time in millennia to say hello. Your little call just now has put the host in turmoil and confusion. Where has Gabriel been all of these years, and why has he shown up now?" Gabriel shifted, the only sign of his feelings a sudden wind that went roaring down the I-25.

Gabriel tapped his forehead. "I hear the chatter. It's not the best connection when I'm hidden, but it's not all static either."

Raphael trailed his foot along a mountainside as he spoke, idly creating avalanches, but refusing to be side-tracked. "What do you want?"

"Time," Gabriel said, as a breeze rose in the De Vargas post office. "Call it off. It doesn't need to be now. It doesn't need to be those two. A few more centuries—" The breeze became a gale, lifting up the letters and exploding through the doors, whipping a nasty set of paper cuts into the face and arms of several bystanders. "Raph …" His brother flicked his finger and the gale disappeared, along with the paper cuts.

"You can't actually care for them, these humans?" Raphael sneered. Raphael looked at him sharply. "No. Not them, _him._ I should have known. An abomination and an apostate, how apt. I shall never understand how it is, Gabriel, that you have not yet fallen."

Gabriel's lip curled. "I've neither ripped out my grace, nor disobeyed any of Dad's orders. Don't you want to welcome home the prodigal son? Why be so inhospitable, Raphael?"

"You've been playing demi-god. One would think that'd be enough."

Gabriel smirked. "You know our relationship with the other pantheons isn't that simple."

"You let us think you were dead."

"And I'm not the only one, am I? Nervous, Raphael? Starting to think that dear old Dad might have an opinion on what you've been up to?"

"Michael and I are the loyal ones, the ones who stayed! If our father is going to reward anyone, then —"

Gabriel loved his brothers. When it came right down to it, he didn't want to fight. "I haven't seen him. Anyway, that's not why I'm here. We can stop this. We can talk to Michael and Lucifer. It doesn't have to be this way," he said. "Nobody has to die."

Gabriel had a sudden sharp memory of the Morning Star, aflame and dancing as the world was born. He closed his eyes to the surprise prickle of tears. This is what humans could never understand about falling, how far the distance really was. "He was once the light-bearer of God, brother," Gabriel says. "How can he be irretrievably shadowed?"

But Raphael didn't give an inch. "Better to ask how you can keep from joining him. Come back to Heaven, brother. Help Michael and I. This world doesn't need archangels, Gabriel. Lucifer's been gone from heaven for a long time, yet the morning star still rises. They call it the planet Venus now. And you, messenger of the Lord," Raphael smirks. "The prophets still hear the word of God. You're obsolete, Gabriel." He scattered the snow drifts across the mountains. "The only place we have in this world is the one we make for ourselves."

Gabriel thought of the Winchesters. "I don't think that's what we're meant to do."

"Have you seen him?" Raphael asked.

"You're the first one I've talked to."

Raphael reached out his grace, letting a tendril of memory from recently dead humans who'd encountered Lucifer flow into Gabriel. Lucifer's vessel was burned out and rotting, a thin shell over a void so dark that Gabriel wanted to weep. "There's no hope for him," Raphael said. "No stopping this." Raphael pulled his grace from Gabriel, for the first time sounding regretful. "You have time yet to pick a side. But you will have to pick one." He disappeared, leaving Gabriel alone. As always.

He went out to lose his despair in a thousand pranks.

But Gabriel couldn't let go of the Winchesters. Or at least one of them in particular. He couldn't get the image of Lucifer's current vessel out of his mind. He couldn't imagine a soul as bright (still bright, miraculously, despite the stain of demon blood) as Sam Winchester's ending up that way.

* * *

2010

Gabriel had finished his business in Butte and had settled down to relax when he felt the call of pagan magic rising in the area. He didn't bother to change, just popped over to take a look. Sam Winchester was laying an oil ring down when Gabriel spoke quietly to his back. There was only one being Gabriel knew of that was both angel and pagan. "How were you planning to get me to step in there?" 

Sam turned around, his expression both weary and wary. Gabriel tried hard to portray nonchalance, still clad in the boxer shorts and undershirt he'd been wearing when he felt the tug. He snapped up a Barcolounger and a dog and reclined, right there in the middle of the warehouse, just outside of the ring Sam had started to draw.

"I hadn't thought about that part," Sam answered honestly. "I thought I'd figure it out once I got you here."

Without Gabriel's vessel, Sam's only chance was calling Loki, which explained the old magic he felt in the warehouse. Things must be desperate for the Winchesters. Gabriel would have sworn neither of them would ever deliberately use pagan magic before this. He started to look around for an explanation when Sam quickly began to speak. "If I had a chance to go back, I could stay away from Ruby, refuse to kill Lilith."

Gabriel kept his voice gentle. "Dean'd still break the first seal, and it wouldn't change anything. You'd still end up killing Lilith. It'd just happen differently. It's your fate, Sam."

Sam shook his head, pleading. "No, I don't believe that. Even if, if our choices don't matter, I know the angels brought the apocalypse on early. My great-great grandson, or whatever, was supposed to —"

"It wouldn't change anything, Sam."

Sam swallowed hard. "Dean wouldn't hate me. It'd change that." His voice seemed small in the warehouse, high and thin, like a child's. Sam's hand moved to his sleeve as if he were going to push it up, but then he stopped, thought better of it. The air of the building stifled now that that Gabriel was thinking of it, and he wondered why Sam even bothered to keep his jacket on.

Gabriel sat up. "If you would say 'yes' to Lucifer, you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore, Sam. Michael will kill Lucifer, and you along with him. Or Lucifer will kill Michael. Then he'd burn your brain right out in a few years, and no more pain, or fear, or guilt." Sometimes Gabriel envied Sam the option.

"No more Sam."

"That, too. But —"

"Dean really would hate me then."

"But you wouldn't know it." Gabriel stopped petting the dog long enough to snap his fingers, and it disappeared. Another chair appeared next to him. "To die for real, Sam. No being brought back, no consequences to face. Isn't that what you really want?"

Sam seemed to be holding his breath. He moved stiffly toward the chair, nearly collapsing into it, close enough that Gabriel could reach out and touch him. There was something wrong here, but Gabriel couldn't figure out what it was. Was Sam scared of him? He listened for a moment, but Sam's heart wasn't beating rapidly. If anything it was a bit sluggish, suggesting that Sam was quite calm. Gabriel frowned at him, trying to puzzle it out.

Sam leaned over and stroked his fingers underneath Gabriel's jaw where his pulse would be. "Tell me about your vessel."

Gabriel ignored the jolt of arousal the touch caused him, needing to know what was going on. Something was very, very wrong. They hadn't parted on good terms and whatever Gabriel felt for Sam, Sam shouldn't, didn't, feel the same way. He pushed Sam's hand away from his face. "I'm not riding a human, if that's what you're asking," he said. "It's complicated, but there are ways around it."

"Then—" Sam bit his lip in confusion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a peppermint patty. He unwrapped it and held it out toward Gabriel. "I don't understand."

"There aren't enough fallen to do it quickly, and Lucifer won't wait." Gabriel took a bite of the mint, licking stray chocolate off of Sam's fingers where it had melted in his hand.

"But Dean—"

"The righteous man is the one prophesied to end it. No one's going to create a vessel for Michael, when having Dean may make the difference between winning and losing."

"Why'd you kill Dean at the Mystery Spot?"

"If he'd died before his year was up, it would have nullified the bargain with the crossroads demon. He'd have gone to heaven, and never broken the first seal." Gabriel blinked, realizing he hadn't meant to say of that. He froze, staring in shock at Sam's hand in his, the hand he'd been licking only moments ago. "What did you do?"

Sam clutched his head as if it hurt and blinked his eyes slowly, sleepily, and when he answered it was as if the words had been dragged out of him. "I knew you wouldn't fall for the same trick twice, so I had to come up with a different one."

That's when it hit Gabriel that all of Sam's questions were a distraction to keep him from noticing the old magic that had called him there in the first place was still building. A spell was working on him, on Sam, too. Gabriel poked at it trying to figure it out, something not quite right, a bunch of different spells mashed together.

Gabriel stood up, pulling Sam up with him, shaking him, shouting at him. Sam was turning pale now and his eyes didn't seem to be tracking. "What did you do, you stupid Winchester?" Sam winced at the pressure on his arms, and Gabriel started pushing up the sleeves of Sam's jacket, staring in horror at the bleeding marks Sam had carved into his skin before Gabriel ever arrived. They were ritual symbols Gabriel couldn't heal with the spell in effect, and the blood loss was probably killing Sam.

"Ritual sacrifice in exchange for a favor." Gabriel's hands tightened on Sam's shoulders, the only thing holding him up, but Sam kept talking. "Binding spell so you can't fly off. Lust spell so you finish the ritual." Sam whimpered. 

Sacrifice. Sam had given himself up to Gabriel. That was why despite everything Sam kept talking. He'd made Loki his god and was bound to obey him, even to answering his questions. Gabriel relaxed his grip and Sam slid to the floor. "Lust. At least, you don't expect me to kill you."

Sam's mind seemed to still be on the train of thought he had started before Gabriel was clued in. "You should have just told me back at the Mystery Spot."

"Tricksters don't just tell people things!"

"You're an angel!" Sam shouted back.

Gabriel's mouth made a tight unhappy line. "My father never gave me orders about you," he said.

Sam pushed weakly at Gabriel. He stepped backward, not wanting to hurt the man any more than he'd already hurt himself "You'd better hurry," Sam said, crawling the few feet necessary to place himself within the unlit oil ring. "Unless you want to fuck a corpse. The bleeding won't stop until the ritual is finished."

"Maybe I'll just wait," Gabriel said as he followed him without thinking. "Let you die; let them bring you back. Poof, no more ritual." Sam fumbled in his pocket, and the lit Zippo tumbled away before Gabriel even noticed. The ring went up in a whoosh, and he and Sam were in it.

"Can't put me back in a body they can't reach. Besides —"

"Shut up, shut up. I should throw you across the flames and walk out of here."

"Ate a box of rock salt before you got here. Salted and burned, not coming back from that, even with angelic intervention." Sam put his arms around Gabriel's neck, tried to kiss him. "Gabriel, please." An entire box of rock salt? The blood loss wasn't the only thing killing Sam.

"Single-minded idiot. I hope you know what you're doing." He snapped their clothes off, landing them in a neat pile, still inside the ring. "Did all of your planning include lubricant?" Sam shook his head. Of course not, Gabriel thought. Winchesters always had to do everything the stupidest, most difficult way possible. "On your knees, then." Sam went to his knees immediately, and Gabriel tried to ignore the lust the sight caused. The spell was working on him, no way around that, and he could only hope it was working on Sam, too, making him want it in some small way. Gabriel had never used willingly used his power like this, and it didn't matter to him that Sam was the one who'd kicked the ritual into gear.

Sam lowered his weight, face sinking to the floor. Sam was gasping and shuddering, his arousal heavy and obvious in every twisting line of his body. Gabriel was glad of it as he felt the spell breaking down his own control, his knowledge of himself as Gabriel and not Loki. He knew the sex was going to be rough and hard, tried to fight against the desire to punish this puny human for summoning a God.

Sam reached over and pulled Gabriel's shorts off, closing his hand over his cock, stroking. Gabriel opened his eyes wide, moaning. "You look like porn," Sam blurted. Gabriel had lived too long among humans not to pick up their habits, and he panted and gasped, breaking and falling underneath Sam's gaze. He felt dazed as he shoved Sam's jeans down, and he pulled Sam to him. Sam began kissing him hard, rocking his cock against Gabriel's thigh. Gabriel could have stayed like that for awhile, but they had to move the ritual forward. He shoved Sam back down to his knees, half of his desperation from the lust spell, and half from the need to finish things before Sam moved Gabriel's ability to heal him.

He licked at Sam's hole to prep him as best he could, until he keened, pushing back against Gabriel's face, trying to get more, more, more. Sam spread himself as wide as he could, hardly able to form words around all the panting he was doing, but he tried anyway, rocking back, mumbling "anything, anything" into the floor. 

"Shh," Gabriel said, and it sounded like an order. Sam went still, clamping his jaw down tight, and Gabriel realized he was on the verge of passing out. The damned pagan spell was forcing Sam to do what Gabriel wanted to a dangerous degree. "Shit," he said, and slapped him, "Breathe, Sam!" Sam hitched in a breath obediently, but tried to muffle the sound in the floor. Gabriel stroked his hair. "I didn't mean—you can breathe, Sam." They had to do this now, and Gabriel spit into his palm and slicked up his cock as best he could, wishing he could snap things through a holy oil circle.

He pushed into Sam, and it felt good. It felt like Sam belonged to him, and even though some dim part of his mind was still self-aware enough to know that was the spell talking, he didn't care. Sam's body felt like the best thing he'd ever felt. Gabriel wanted to take and dominate and he rocked his hips forcefully. The delicious friction of it all built rapidly and then Gabriel was coming, hard. Just like that effects of the spell collapsed, leaving Gabriel embarrassed. "Sam," Gabriel said. His lay kisses across Sam's back as he shifted, pulling out of him.

Sam fell to the floor, panting, his eyelids growing heavy. "You have to help us now."

Gabriel could feel a tie between them now. Sam had sacrificed himself to him, and he owed him a boon. But what Sam really wanted was impossible. It didn't matter what Sam asked for. Gabriel was bound to give Sam what he wanted, regardless of what he said, and he could feel Sam now, really feel him. That's what being bound was. That was how the spell worked. What Sam wanted most right now was for Dean to be happy and safe, and that wasn't in Gabriel's power. He tried to reassure Sam. He could give him that, at least. "There's nothing for me to do. Dean doesn't hate you. He could never." Gabriel rested a hand on Sam's chest, healing all the damage that had been done. A moment, and Sam could breathe easily again. "Raphael was always closer to Michael," Gabriel said. "And I had Lucifer. But I couldn't—it was a step too far. But I didn't stop caring. We didn't stop being brothers."

Sam shivered, and curled up against Gabriel, and Gabriel felt moved to stroke his hand through Sam's hair. It was probably just a side effect of the ritual, but he didn't try to fight it. "I made myself an offering to you, and you took it. You also ate mint from my hand. You have to help now."

"I don't know what combination of rituals you cobbled together for this, but I can feel it. We're bound until I can fulfill my side of the bargain, and give you what you want in exchange for the offering. But right now you only want —"

"I want you to help me stop Lucifer."

"No, you don't." Gabriel said. He sat up, putting Sam's head in his lap. "I told you, I can feel it. What you want most right now is all for Dean, and that's not in my power."

Sam closed his eyes in despair. "I should get dressed." Gabriel snapped his fingers and they were both clothed again. "Now what?"

"We're bound until you want something that I can give you more than you want Dean to be okay." Gabriel's hand ran up and down his arm. "You might as well go to sleep. Unless you left a note for Castiel and Dean, I think we'll be here for awhile."

Sam yawned, unworried. The flames were already dying down. "You can't tell Dean about this," Sam said.

"Castiel will know."

"Cas won't care." Sam lay down on the floor, his head in Gabriel's lap. "Gabriel?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"I can feel you, too."

"I know, Sam."

"You still think of him as a brother. But I won't say yes." Sam kissed the knee in front of his face. "You don't even want me to. You like me."

"Go to sleep, Sam."

"Are you all right?"

Stupid sacrificing Winchesters. "Better than you," he snapped.

The fire had burned out eventually, and Gabriel flew away. They didn't see each other again until Elysian Fields.

* * *

Gabriel was getting ready to go see Kali and Baldur when Sam Winchester walked back into the room. He hadn't expected that. "Sam! I thought you and Dean were—" 

Sam cut him off. "I'd forgotten about that. That you wouldn't look at me. You said everything to Dean. You must have been so disgusted by what I did. I pretty much ra—"

Gabriel knew exactly what Sam's soul felt like through the bond, and it had never been the damaged scarred thing he felt now. "You're not Sam." But something pretending to be Sam wouldn't have the bond. What was he sensing.

"I am him," 'Sam' replied. "I mean, I'm me, just—"

All at once, Gabriel understood. "From the future."

"Yeah." Sam shoved his hands in his pockets, visibly nervous.

"Why are you here?"

"Not to hurt you," Sam said. Gabriel snorted. Sam's energy was hard to read for some reason, physically, he could be from no farther than a few years in the future, though his soul felt older. Regardless, Sam was still Sam, not Lucifer, and Gabriel was afraid of no human. Not even one as unpredictable as Sam. "I'm sorry," Sam said suddenly. "I shouldn't have drugged you; I realize that now. I was desperate, but that's no excuse." Sam looked stricken, as if he were conscious of it in a way that he hadn't been at the time. Gabriel felt an absurd urge to comfort him.

"It was a ritual, Sam, and not the first one I've ever been through. Forget about it. It's not like I've never done anything to you. Now tell me what's important enough to send you back in time?"

"You said if there ever came a time when I wanted something from you more than I wanted Dean to be happy, then—"

"Why are you here _now?_ " Gabriel said. "Whatever you need, can't you just get it from me in the future?" Sam was quiet. "Oh."

Gabriel plastered a smile on his face. "You know I think you're not supposed to tell me that. Altering your own past can have grave consequences."

Sam shrugged. "I haven't told you how or when."

"I could make you."

"Are you going to?"

"No, Sam," Gabriel said gently. He had a feeling he knew anyway. It was doubtful that Sam had chosen to come here to this time and place at random. He shook himself. "Well, you didn't come all this way to catch me up on the gossip. What foolish scheme are you Winchesters hatching now?"

"I need your blood," Sam said.

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at him. That was … interesting, and possibly something Gabriel could use to his advantage.

"Dean's — Is this something I can tell you?"

"You should know better than to trust me to tell you the truth," Gabriel said. He raised a hand. "I don't need to know what hare-brained scheme you've gotten yourselves wrapped up into now. But my blood?"

"The blood of an archangel inhabiting a human vessel."

Gabriel grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. Why should I give it to you?"

"You said—"

"That was a pagan ritual, Sam. Made with a pagan trickster. You want an archangel's blood. I'm not bound to give it to you. But I will. If you bring me back."

"What? How could I—"

"I'll have to bind my grace to your soul."

"I thought we were already bound."

"This would be more permanent."

"And you'll give me the blood then?" Desperation was obvious in every line of his body.

"I'll swear to it."

"Fine, then. Whatever you want."

"You shouldn't say such things to a trickster. I might hold you to it. Sam, you have to understand, if you do this, there's no going back. We'll be bound for eternity. We'll be able to feel each other. You won't ever be without me. And I'm not a nice person," he warned. "Wouldn't you rather forget it?"

"Dean will die without that blood."

Gabriel laughed. "Well, that's one thing that hasn't changed. The two of you are still wrapped up in each other." He sobered. "It's good to see you, Sam. To know that you haven't said yes." Sam's eyes cut away, and Gabriel caught his breath. "Sam?"

"It's a long story," Sam said finally. "But we saved the world."

Whatever had happened, there wasn't anything that Gabriel could do about it at the moment. He focused on the moment at hand. "There's just one catch. Soul/grace bonds are serious business. No other angel will be able to hold onto your soul for any length of time after this." He laughed. "But that shouldn't be a problem, unless you need one to carry you out of—"

The look on Sam's face stopped him.

The smile abruptly fell off Gabriel's face. "Oh, Sam. No."

Sam tried to smile. "As you can see, it all worked out."

"How long?"

"Long enough," Sam said.

Gabriel sketched out the ritual Sam would need to perform to raise him. "I'll give you the blood then."

"But Dean—"

"Will have to wait. Call it insurance." 

Sam nodded. Gabriel raised his hand. "Gabriel?" Sam hesitated.

"Yes?"

"That day when I," Sam broke off, started over. "You didn't seem that surprised."

"I'd been watching you, Sam. I watch you a lot. You're not what I expected." Gabriel could say that now. Could give up a little honesty, knowing that he'd been dead not too long from now.

"Oh. I used to watch Casa Erotica XIII when Dean wasn't around," Sam said. He held up his hand, to forestall the question he figured Gabriel was going to ask about what a porn film had to do with anything. "You know I thought it'd be different with you. It should have been." He looked away, unable to look Gabriel in the eye. "I know I'm tainted, or cursed, or however you want to put it. I know everyone who gets close to me dies. But I thought — an archangel should be more resilient. I'm sorry you died."

Maybe Gabriel's feelings weren't all one-sided. He shrugged. "We have no stories."

"What?"

"Humans. They have stories. But we don't. We don't sit around the campfire and chat about what happens to archangels when they die. Maybe I'd like to find out." Gabriel stepped forward and reached up, pulling Sam down to him. He kissed him on the lips, delighting in Sam's kissing him back. Gabriel nearly gasped as his grace touched Sam's soul. So much pain, and his mind … with shock and horror, Gabriel saw spidery cracks running throughout Sam's mind, held together by sheer force of will. Someone had tampered with it, more than once. But there was no time to dwell on it now, as the bond finished forming. He quickly poured the ritual needed to raise him into Sam's mind. "Be well, Sam." Gabriel reached into space-time and shoved, banishing Sam back to the future before any more changes could be made to the past. Gabriel put on his game face; he had a meeting to interrupt.

* * *

Now

"Sam!" Castiel sat up from his position next to Dean, though Sam saw he kept a hand on his wound. There was a faint glow issuing from around the edges as Castiel fought to contain the infection. "Did you get it?" Castiel asked. The angel was pale and shaky looking, and Sam wondered if taking care of Dean and bringing Sam back had taken a worse toll that Castiel had thought it would.

"Not yet," Sam said. "Gabriel wanted something in return. I have to find his body."

Castiel stared at him and his eyes narrowed. "You're bound," he gasped.

"It was the only way he'd agree to give me the blood. I didn't want to waste time arguing."

"After all this time, what makes you think there will be anything of him left?"

"Because there has to be."

"You should have gotten the blood from him when you could."

"He didn't give me a choice."

"He owed you."

"Try telling him that. Now help me find him. I'll start in the conference room, and you can start at the other end of the building."

Castiel looked over at Dean. Sam saw his brother was still unconscious, clearly feverish. The bite on his leg was swollen and dripping pus, infected, and there were even more blacks streaks running through it, the blood poisoning still advancing. They had to act fast. "I don't want to leave him," Cas said. 

"Yeah, all right. I'd better hurry," Sam turned at the door and looked back at Cas. "He's going to be okay?"

"He's going to be okay," Castiel said grimly. "If Gabriel gives you any trouble, remember he still owes you. Keep that in mind."

* * *

Sam entered the conference room, and with a sigh of relief he saw that there were still remains there, though time and other things had eaten away at them. A scorched wing pattern marked them as Gabriel's. It was a good thing he had kept the amulet. Gabriel had told him what it would do, the power it held. Sam held his breath as he held it to what was left of Gabriel, praying that it wouldn't be as useless for this as it had been for finding God.

Suddenly, he felt a large pinch in his solar plexus. The feeling grew stronger and quickly turned into pain that spread throughout his body as if he was being turned inside out. A light grew under his fingers, so bright he had to shut his eyes. There was a roar of a mighty wind and then … silence.

There was a wiggle under his fingers, and Sam opened his eyes. Gabriel lay under his hands, whole and alive. "Dean. Now."

"Where?" Gabriel said.

"The laundry room." Sam blinked and they were there. Castiel was passed out next to his brother, having used up his reserves. Dean's leg looked unsalvageable.

"What's this ritual you need my blood for?"

Sam looked down at Gabriel. "I don't know," he said. "Cas had the book. I couldn't read the Enochian. We were in such a hurry." Sam knelt down by Cas and shook him, but the angel didn't wake. "Can't you wake him up?"

Gabriel knelt beside him and placed a hand on Cas, but then shook his head. "He burned up his grace on Dean. He tied his entire life force into healing him. The only way Castiel is going to recover is if Dean does." Sam felt his stomach drop to his knees as he realized he hadn't seen the book since the roadside. He'd finished the stitches and Cas had helped him get Dean's legs back inside the car, then gotten into the back seat with his brother. "I think he set it down on the roof of the car. We've got to go back."

"Wait."

"We don't have time to wait. Dean—"

"We don't have time to search miles of road for a book that might not be there anymore. Did you see the ritual?"

"Yeah, but I don't know what it said. I can't read Enochian."

"Sam, I can find the memory in your brain and read the Enochian myself. But I'd have to go into your memories."

"Won't that take just as long?" 

"Thoughts don't move temporally. What seems like a long time inside your brain will only be minutes. I think it's Dean's best chance if you trust me enough."

"My brain," Sam began.

"I know someone's been messing with it. I can still go into thoughts to find what you saw and read it, but only if you trust me." This wasn't the Gabriel who'd tortured Sam over and over at the Mystery Spot, or even the one who'd trapped them in a series of awful television shows. This was a Gabriel who helped them against Lucifer, gotten them out alive, left them the message in the DVD. Whatever mistakes he'd made in the past, Sam believed Gabriel really did want to help. Besides, if Dean died, Sam would rather go with him. He had nothing to lose. "I trust you," Sam said.

"When I get inside your memories you'll have to guide me, Sam. It's going to be confusing for you. There are some really fractured places in there."

Sam remembered what had happened last year, when Cas had trapped him in his brain. His fractured parts had nearly killed one another. "I know it's dangerous," he said. "I don't care. Let's just do it."

* * *

Gabriel snapped his fingers and Sam unbalanced as his feet were knocked out from under him. He was falling

falling

falling

Sam was falling. Twisting down an inky, eternal oubliette forever. He'd lost sight of Michael, but he could still feel Lucifer in his head, screaming for control. He had no way to measure time in this place. He never carried a watch, and he put his cell phone in the Impala's glove box before Detroit. But enough time has passed that he should have died of dehydration by now. The fact that he was still alive meant something. Maybe Sam would never die. It was an unpleasant thought. He tumbled over and over, nauseous and dizzy, wondering (hoping) that maybe this was as tormenting as hell would be for him. But he knew that wasn't right. It got worse, it—but Sam got out. Sam had gotten out. Dean was—

Dean was sitting down to dinner. Sam stood in the darkness underneath a burnt-out street lamp. The light inside Lisa's house was bright, affording him a perfect view through the opening in the curtains.

Sam could remember, distantly, like it was something he read in a book once, wanting that for himself. Wanting a spouse, kids, a dining room table with people gathered around it. He didn't feel that way anymore. He felt empty. Relieved to be out of the cage, an absence of pressure, of pain. Lucifer no longer in his head and looking back on it Sam felt like he had been weak. If he knocked on that door, if Dean saw him, Sam knew deep in his bones that it would all start over again. That he would drag Dean back down with him into hunting and the endless road trip. But it didn't have to be that way. He could change it, he did change it, because he didn't need Dean, he didn't care about Dean, he walked away down the sidewalk, away from Dean, away from the home, away from normal.

Eventually, he comes to a busier street, and that one leads to a busier street, with some shops, and then a busier street with a 24-hour diner. He doesn't know how long he's been gone, better not to risk his cards. There's some cash in his pocket, but not as much as he'd like. He orders a cup of coffee and asks for the time, asks where the closest bar with a pool table is. He finds out there's still some hours yet before the bars close down; he has time to rest his feet. The diner is warm and well-lit, the fluorescent bulbs a welcome change from the soft glow of hellfire and lightning.

He's staring down into his cup when a man slides into the booth across from him. "I thought I was never going to catch up to you," he says. "Things are worse here than I realized. I've been trying to repair what I could."

He watches silently as the figure in front of him reaches over and grabs a packet of sugar and pours it into his mouth like a pixie stick. "I don't know about you," he says. "But I can't remember the last time I had a decent meal. Not since I died, anyway." He stops and looks at Sam, who's frozen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Sam?"

"Do I know you?"

"My name is Gabriel," the man says. "We're in your head."

"This isn't hell."

"No, Sam. You're out of there."

But he's not, because he was on an ice floe, in the middle of a vast ocean that stretched around him in every direction until it met sky. Off in the distance he could see the ocean boiling, but the waters closest to him were calm. The ice floe grew. The cold didn't burn; it felt no different than sitting on a floor. Deep in his mind he could still hear Lucifer calling. Sam wondered if he himself had created the ice floe, if he was running cold, as Lucifer had in his last vessel. Michael (Adam) was nowhere to be seen. Sam didn't think it would be wise to swim out blindly searching, assuming that water in hell behaved anything like water. He hugged his knees to his chest and tried to feel grateful. This was not how Dean had experienced hell. If all he had to contend with was dull sameness and a ranting lunatic in the back of his skull for all eternity, he should be grateful. Eventually, Lucifer would give up trying to take over again, wouldn't he? Sam rested his head against his knees and rubbed his face against the denim. Yes, he would be grateful.

"This is interesting," he heard a familiar voice call out. It was startling loud in the silent air of the cage, no previous sound but the water washing against Sam's ice floe, and the scrape of his clothes rustling as he moved. He lifted his head toward the source of the sound, and was startled to see that his floe had drifted and washed up on a rocky shore beneath a rocky outcropping over which Gabriel, the archangel, the trickster, leaned over, looking at him.

"You're dead," Sam said. Sam thought that nothing could surprise him anymore. That all his silly illusions about heaven and angels and God had long since been stripped from him. And yet. He was surprised to discover that he wasn't sure which idea bothered him more — that Gabriel was a figment of his imagination, and he was still all alone unless one counted Lucifer, or that naughty angels went to hell when they died same as any other person.

"And you're not. It's a little disconcerting to see just how much space your memories of hell are taking up in your mind, Sam."

Sam began to climb the rocks. They hillside was cliff-like, though not so high, and it was hard-going. He cut himself repeatedly on the sharp edges of the rocks, until his palms were slick with blood, making it harder to keep a grip. He refused to let himself look down, and tried to ignore the seeping blood, welling up into drops and dripping down his arms, staining his cuffs. This, this was closer to his expectations for hell, though still light-years away. Maybe they were easing him into the torments. Or maybe things were just different for the living. Sam wondered if Lucifer would be able to heal him, or if his powers were suppressed, as well. Maybe Sam could tap into those powers and heal himself. Sam thought it might be warmer here, though it was hard for him to tell. He felt cold, deeply cold, down at his core. He wondered if Lucifer felt this way all the time, even without a vessel, if that was why hell was supposedly kept so hot. But maybe that was irrelevant, might as well argue the temperature of the stars. Very hot or very cold, they still burned.

He finally reached the top and pulled himself over the edge. Gabriel didn't help. He'd backed away from the edge now. Sam was startled to see that he leaned upon an evergreen tree, wearing nothing but boxers and an undershirt (yes, it had to be warmer; Sam hoped, at least, there was an explanation like that for Gabriel's attire) licking lazily on a popsicle.

"So this is where angels go when they die?"

"Sam?" Gabriel sat up straighter.

Sam looked around. "Didn't you die indoors?"

"If I hadn't been in oblivion for the last however long, I'm pretty sure I would have imagined this conversation going differently."

He and Sam both, because Sam doesn't even know what that means. He figures he'll just sit and wait it out. He sits down and looks at Gabriel, and Gabriel looks back, and what? Sam doesn't get it, because Gabriel is just staring at him. Just staring and not dying and what the ... hell. "I don't get it," Sam finally says.

"What?" Gabriel says and holds out his popsicle, like he's offering Sam a taste.

"I don't remember this place."

"This is Sweden," Gabriel said. "Tiveden Forest. No reason you should remember it."

Well, that helped not at all.

"This is one of my memories," Gabriel sid. "Bleed over from the bond maybe. Sam, you're alive."

"I wish you were," Sam said.

Gabriel looked surprised at that. "I am." He held out his arm. "Pinch me."

The weird thing is, and Sam will remember this later, the weird thing is he doesn't complain how stupid that is, he just reached over and pinched him.

"Ow," Gabriel said. It's a little ostentatious, and Sam gives him a look.

"Okay, okay, it didn't hurt, but I did feel it."

A dozen thoughts ran through Sam's head. He dismissed them all. There would be no point to it. His feet hurt, and leaving Dean behind felt so wrong that even now he wanted to run back to Lisa's house. But Gabriel's cruelty was wanton, not subtle. There was no gain to making Sam think he's out of hell, if he wasn't, and if someone else wanted to influence Sam, there are better people to pretend to be. (Lucifer, Michael, Adam, howcouldheleavehimbehind). 

"Stop it," Gabriel says and pinches him. "Sorry. You need to focus. Castiel had the book—"

"Castiel's dead," Sam said.

"No, he isn't," Gabriel blurted. "Don't get caught up in here, Sam. These are just your memories."

"I don't know what you mean," Sam said. "He died. We saw him die."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "How?"

"He walked into the water," Sam said.

"Take me there."

To Sam's surprise, everything shimmered.

* * *

Gabriel tried not to let on how shaken he was by what he'd seen so far in Sam's brain. They were standing by a reservoir. He could looked for Sam's memory of Castiel and reached out, pulling. Castiel rose from the water, sputtering, but okay.

"He was naked," Sam blurted.

"Probably not while you were reading over his shoulder," Gabriel said drily. "Now try and remember, Cas was holding the book and Dean was in the backseat … Where's Dean?" Gabriel asked.

Sam looked at him. "You killed him," he said, and Gabriel was unprepared for how that hurt.

"Yeah, I did," he said. Were Sam's memories just a long collection of people dying on him? Of all the things he'd done in his long life, all the lives he'd interfered in, that was the decision he most wished he could take back.

He took Sam's hand. "Show me," he said, pulling "Castiel" along with them to a room where Asia was playing. Gabriel watched as Dean tripped and hit head on the doorknob. "Sam," he said. "Look at Castiel. You know this happened a long time ago, Castiel wasn't here. He was here when—"

"Dean got bitten," Sam said suddenly. "He was lying in the backseat."

"Yes! He was lying in the backseat, and the floorboards under Dean's prone form shifted to the backseat of a car. It wasn't the Impala, but Gabriel supposed the car had had to breakdown eventually. He pushed Sam's memory of Castiel next to the car. "Castiel was looking at a book, and you saw it." Sam seemed more cognizant of what was going on, but they still needed to hurry. Gabriel didn't think either of them could stand to keep wandering through Sam's mind.

Sam pulled Dean's legs until they were sticking out of the car. "I had a needle in my hand, and I was next to him, and Castiel was holding the book and—"

A book shimmered into being in Castiel's hands and Gabriel pulled it out and looked at it. He wondered how the Winchesters could possibly have encountered a Leviathan, but it wasn't important now. He finished reading the ritual, easily memorizing the Enochian. "Let's go," he told Sam and snapped his fingers.

* * *

Sam flinched away as Gabriel pulled out his sword, but relaxed when Gabriel only sliced his own wrist with it. Gabriel dripped his blood into Dean's wound, muttering the words of the ritual, watching to see as the skin around Dean's wound began to bubble and the spreading dark retreated just a little, but not enough. "Help me prop him," he ordered, then went back to chanted. Sam lifted Dean up into a sitting position and tilted his head back so Gabriel could let his wrist gush out directly into Dean's mouth. Sam seemed to hold his breath as they waited. Dean began to cough and sputter, and Gabriel pulled his wrist away before he choked. "Drink," he ordered. "Sam, tell him."

"Just do it, Dean. I'll explain later." Gabriel pressed his wrist back to Dean's mouth and watched as Dean began to reflexively swallow. Slowly black ink began to seep out of the edges of the stitches as if running away. For a brief moment there was a slight pool of black on the top of Dean's skin, until that too fizzled away, and all that was left behind was a normal wound. He reached for Dean's calf, and then all traces of the wound were gone. Dean was healed. 

Dean looked at the two of them. "Tell me that's not addictive," he said.

"Archangel blood works nothing like demon blood," Gabriel said.

Dean nodded and then his eyes widened as he caught sight of Castiel. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's fine," Gabriel answered. "He'll be up in a few minutes. He burned up his grace trying to keep you alive, and it's going to take awhile for him to recharge." Let Castiel be the one to explain to Dean exactly what he'd done.

The tug from Sam's soul was demanding, and Gabriel had to fight his grace to keep it from reaching out to him. If he didn't leave now, he might not be able to. "Well, if that's all," Gabriel said. He raised his hand.

Sam closed his own hand over it. "Castiel said you still owe me a boon," he said. "The blood was for resurrecting you."

"'Cas' said, did he?" Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "And did dear Cas tell you he's the one who's been mucking around in your brain? I saw it when I was running around after you in there."

"I know," Sam said, refusing to be distracted.

"You have to want something I can give you," Gabriel answered. "You have to want it more than you want anything else." But he could already feel it, in whatever part of himself was still Loki.

"I want your help against the Leviathan."

* * *

Cas chose that moment to wake up, and Sam felt as surprised as the look on Cas's face when the both of them noticed that Dean was holding his hand.

"Dean?"

Dean yanked his hand away. "I'm glad you're okay," he muttered. "I don't know what's going on here. Why we're in a laundry room or why Gabriel's alive or what all else I missed, but we are not a home for wayward angels, Sam. We've already got one person we don't trust hanging around. We don't need two."

"You'll never forgive me," Castiel said matter-of-factly. "I understand that, but don't refuse Gabriel's help because of what I did."

Dean stood up. "Cas …"

"From the look on little brother's face, I've apparently missed a lot of bad deeds, so I think it's best if we just—"

"No," Sam said. "It isn't up to Dean. This is getting us nowhere." Sam could feel Gabriel pulling away from him, away from the bond, but Sam remembered what Gabriel had said about it's permanence. He used that now against him, groping for the sense of Gabriel he could feel at the back of his head, and tugging on it. He could feel Gabriel's confusion and guilt. There was so much between them. But Sam had forgiven the Mystery Spot a long time ago, and it made no sense for Gabriel to blame himself for how the lust sacrifice had gone down. That was all on Sam. "Gabriel, are you going to help?"

* * *

It was tempting to say no, to give up. The last thing Gabriel remembered was his brother killing him, and he thought he was entitled to take some time to process that. Find out everything that had happened since he died.

But he could feel the bond to Sam's soul now, real and strong with them both in the same timeline, and there was no way he could turn Sam down. Let him think it was because Gabriel owed him. "What do you need? Just because archangel blood heals infection by Leviathan doesn't mean it's going to kill Leviathan, and what good would it do anyway? It's not like you can toss it and some anti-coagulant in a super soaker and take them all on. Might as well try to bale the ocean. I'm surprised one of my brothers hasn't already gotten rid of them. It's not like the blood is the only way."

"Raphael's dead. And Michael and Lucifer are locked in the cage."

"No one is in charge of Heaven at the moment," Castiel said. "But I'm sure there are factions that would accept you as leader if you wanted."

"Did you lose your mind in the last few years? Of course, I don't want that responsibility," Gabriel said.

"What did you mean by your blood not being the only way?" Dean asked. "Because I've got to tell you, we've got nothing, so anything you know, spill."

* * *

Gabriel looked sad then. "I'm supposed to blow my horn at the end of the world. Did you know that?" Sam nodded. "I know all the ways the world can end," he said. "It's part of my design." Sam marveled at that. How matter of fact the angels could be sometimes when discussing fate. His own human soul resisted such a thing. Sam may have felt trapped by circumstance at time, but he could never imagine thinking of himself as nothing more than a fairly intelligent cog with a set purpose. "Leviathans are one way, but Heaven has a weapon that can stop them. Scoop them back up and seal them into purgatory one by one."

Sam felt almost painfully alight with optimism. A lot of water had gone under the bridge since Gabriel had tried to talk them into wearing meat suits. This was a chance, a real chance. And Cas— he was still and quiet, without expression, just looking at Dean, leaving it up to him. Which was as good as telling Dean he wanted Gabriel to join them, but he wouldn't ask. Because he never asked Dean for anything these days. 

Dean inhaled. "What did you do with the weapons you got from Balthazar last year, Cas?" Cas looked startled again, and that's when Sam got it. Dean was talking to him. Why now, Sam didn't know, but just when Castiel was feeling lowest about what he'd done, Dean was starting to thaw. As far as Dean was concerned getting their own personal trickster on their side was more trouble than it was worth, and maybe that was the key. Sam could see almost feel his brother pushing down the urge to ask to borrow Castiel's sword so he could preemptively stab Gabriel with it. Maybe with Gabriel around as a focus for his enmity, Dean didn't mind Cas so much.

"I put them someplace no one would look. When I realized Balthazar was helping Dean I put them someplace no one could find them." Castiel flinched. "I could have stopped the Leviathan all along. Which one is it?"

* * *

Gabriel could see the way Dean looked at him every time he appeared in his and Sam's motel room, eyes burning with suspicion. "What do you want?" he barked every time, flicking his eyes over to weapons. 

Gabriel always answered the same. "I found another one."

It hadn't taken long to retrieve the weapons from where Castiel had hidden them. Tracking them all down was the hard part, and they spent more time doing that than fighting. None of them had a choice about working together, so Dean was forced to swallow down what he really wanted to say. For Sam's sake, Gabriel tried to keep the practical jokes to a minimum. The weapon could only be powered by both a human and an angel working together, some hidden trick of his father's to ensure that if the world needed saving from Leviathan, angels and humans were forced to work together to accomplish it.

They learned about each other. Sam would talk freely about most anything, but he had well-marked boundaries of things he refused to discuss. If he felt pushed or cornered, he'd lie easily without a second's remorse. But only when he was pushed. Gabriel, on the other hand, like a lot of angels, was incapable of lying directly. But he was a master at making the truth sound like something else entirely. He was good at misdirection, and employed it habitually, even when he wouldn't mind Sam knowing the truth. It was a trickster habit, and not one he cared to try to break just yet.

Gabriel didn't know everything that had happened in the last few years, but Sam had clearly not learned his lesson. He was still too trusting, too willing to believe in goodness or redemption. Too willing to believe, period. A lot of it been knocked out of him. But not all. Gabriel could still see it, the way Sam believed in him. It wasn't a sentiment he thought he could live up to, so he found relief in the fact Dean still didn't trust him. Sam would do anything, anything, to keep his brother's approval, and Gabriel hoped that would be enough to keep Sam safe.

Gabriel couldn't seem to help needling both Winchesters from time to time, but Dean found it a lot more difficult to roll with than Sam. Thus, when they split up, more often than not Cas and Dean went off together, and Sam ended up with Gabriel.

"Dude," Dean said once, "It's like you want us to hate you."

It's the last one, the main prize, the Leviathan boss, Dick Roman, Sam and Dean called him, that turned everything on its head. He didn't try to flee, but instead went full bore at the weapon itself. It was enough to save him, to give him a chance to escape. It was enough to cause the weapon to explode in their hands, knocking Sam to the ground and temporarily depowering both angels.

* * *

"Idiot," Gabriel swore, hauling Sam up by the back of his jacket. Gabriel crouched down, getting his shoulder up under him and slinging Sam over himself in a firefighter's carry. "You should have let me take the full brunt of the blast. You know I can't die."

Sam didn't bother to answer, trying hard to stay awake, to relax, to keep from fighting against Gabriel's hold on him. The fire burned all around them. Sam wasn't a praying man and less inclined to be so after Cas, but he sent up a few wishes for miracles. "If anyone's listening," he thought, "Now would be a good time to send the cavalry." Nothing happened. Typical.

He blinked, and suddenly they were in the car, Dean driving and muttering under his breath, curses or prayers, Sam didn't know, didn't care. His chest hurt, and every breath made him want to vomit. The pain eased after a time, and he didn't want to worry Dean, so he tried to hide what he could. But Castiel was looking at him knowingly, and he felt Gabriel's concern through their bond.

Sam wanted nothing more than a hot bath once they got to a motel room, but he couldn't honestly figure out how to explain that to Dean without letting on how badly he felt. He reluctantly settled on a shower, when Castiel unexpectedly spoke up. "Dean and I should go get some food," he said. 

"You hungry, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Starving," Sam said. He flashed Castiel a grateful look behind Dean's back. Cas nodded briefly in acknowledgement and Sam heard him ask a question about pie as they left the room. Things weren't much better between the two of them, but Dean was at least talking to Cas now.

Gabriel was too quiet, and Sam figured he would have winked out by now, if he could. Gabriel didn't usually stay in their room, just popped in and out.

"I'm going to be awhile, so if you want to shower, I can—"

"No," Gabriel said, with a shudder. "Go take your bath, Sam."

Sam felt infinitely better as hot water soothed his pain and the soap washed away the lingering grime and stickiness from the explosion. His leg injury seemed to center on his knee, which throbbed and seemed to be swelling up. When Sam came out of the bathroom, Dean and Cas weren't back yet.

Gabriel's clothes were as wrecked as Sam's, and for once he can't hand wave himself into a new outfit. "I've got something you can put on, after," Sam tells him. "It won't fit well, but—"

Gabriel stared at the bathroom door. "I've never—" But of course, Sam thought. Gabriel had probably never taken a shower, not a real one. Why would he need to, when all he had ever had to do was think himself clean? Sam goes in to the bathroom and turns the water in the shower on. "The temp should be right, I think. Motels mostly are okay for hot water. Just step under the spray and move the soap around. Oh, and close the curtain."

Gabriel nodded. Sam remembered to hand him the clothes before he shut the bathroom door.

He was still in the shower when Dean and Castiel get back. 

The next morning, Gabriel said he was going to stay and recuperate, maybe get to know the maids a little better. Castiel shot him a look, but Sam knew it was all for Dean's benefit, and he felt something like warmth or gratitude maybe.

Gabriel didn't come by at all the week after that, but Sam knew when Gabriel's powers returned. Sam drowsed in the front seat to the steady chatter of Dean explaining to a rapt Castiel the artistic growth evident between the releases of "Ride the Lightning" and "Master of Puppets." Between one breath and another, his pain and injuries disappeared. He sat up and Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. Sam turned to see a troubled look on Cas's face. He felt it happen, Sam guessed, and didn't like that Gabriel didn't show up in person.

But Sam understood. He and Gabriel weren't like Cas and Dean.

* * *

Gabriel didn't go back to the Winchesters until he found a place Dick Roman was frequenting. But with the weapon gone, they would have to use Gabriel's blood to kill him. With the amount they needed, they'd only have one shot at him before they'd have leave and try to find Dick again later. 

Cas and Dean went to stake out the place where Dick was hiding while Gabriel and Sam went to the Winchesters' motel room to start collecting blood. Gabriel snapped up a bucket, and opened a vein letting his blood float into it. Sam looked away, a vein in his jaw throbbing. "You're going to leave after this, aren't you?" Gabriel didn't know what to say. Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "Stay the night with me."

His meaning was unmistakable. Gabriel took a long drink from his coffee cup and then with a curse he hurled it into the corner trashcan. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah." Why not? If they were tied together for all eternity, than why ever not? The bucket was full, and blood loss didn't effect him. Gabriel sealed up his vein and reached for Sam.

It was different this time. Sam manhandled Gabriel to the bed, no hint of gentleness or submission, and that reassured Gabriel more than anything else.

The next morning, Cas appeared in the room, and with remarkable discretion (or maybe not, maybe all the lower angels were this easy-going, Gabriel thought), didn't say a word upon finding the two of them curled up together in one bed, nude. "The Leviathan is back."

Sam was out of bed immediately. Gabriel growled and tossed the bedspread over him. "Cas, step outside," he ordered. Sam shook his head and laughed a bit. "I don't care if he thinks he's Dean's angel," Gabriel said. "He doesn't need to see you naked." He frowned. Maybe he didn't have a right to be so possessive. "We didn't talk about —" He broke off, unsure of what he meant.

"No. We didn't," Sam said. "Do you want to?"

Gabriel shook his head, he'd always been more of a believer in actions than words.

Sam moved back to the bed and kissed Gabriel. "Come on," he said.

The blue sky was streaked with a few cirrus clouds here and there, but the day was warm, and Gabriel knew the sun would soon be beating down. He wished he'd been able to take a more covered position, but Leviathans rarely thought about things like comfort. They seemed, in fact, not to notice the elements at all. He wondered if it was a genuine oversight, or if given their vaunted healing capabilities and ability to jump from body to body they simply didn't care about things like thirst or sunburn or glare. From what he'd seen, fatal bullet wounds didn't stop them, nor great falls. They went on as best they could, and if their bodies were irretrievably twisted out of shape, they merely bent toward new ones.

In the end, the battle was pretty anti-climatic. They burst in on Roman, and he had no time to react before they'd dowsed him in blood and watched him bubble and boil away, melting like the Wicked Witch.

* * *

Sam and Dean went to the car to drive back to the motel room, but Gabriel stopped Cas before he could fly away to meet them. Castiel looked at him warily. "Are you going to leave now?"

"Is Dean worth it?" Gabriel asked, thinking of how Castiel could never return to Heaven.

"Yes."

"Even if he never forgives you? Even if he never loves you back?"

"He's already forgiven me," Castiel said. "He doesn't have to say it, and if he never trusts me again, I'll understand. He lets me ride in his car and watches my back. That's friendship to Dean."

"Most of them aren't worth the dust they're made with, you know. But some of them can be quite—compelling," Gabriel leaned forward suddenly, whispering conspiratorially. "There is something appealing about them, though, isn't there? The way Sam just keeps on going, utterly convinced that this time things will be different, that if only he can make himself smart enough or strong enough or good enough, he can actually make the world a better place, instead of wrecking the lives of everyone around him. He deserves better than to spend his life this way."

But Castiel's gaze was too knowing, seeing through Gabriel's cynicism. "He thinks I'm a good person," Gabriel says heavily.

"You think he's one," Castiel replies.

"He is." Gabriel hadn't really known Castiel before the Winchesters. He'd never really known any of the garrison soldiers. He didn't know what it was that made Castiel so brave, so willing to believe that he had a right to stay by Dean's side. "I'm not even a person," Gabriel said.

* * *

When Dean and Sam reached the motel room, Castiel and Gabriel weren't there yet, though angel travel was much faster.

"Cas has regained a lot of his powers," Dean said. "He doesn't need to stay with us anymore."

"He'll be here," Sam said.

"I didn't say I wanted him to—"

Sam cut him off, unwilling to hear it. "It's okay for you to forgive him."

"I haven't," Dean snapped. "After what he did to you, I could never forgive that."

"Dean," Sam said. "Don't hold onto your anger on my account. You have to know I don't want that for you."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe," he said.

Sam never wanted to be anyone's penance. Not Dean's and not Gabriel's.

He should let Gabriel go, tell him that Sam will be okay without him. That Gabriel doesn't have to come back. He could feel even now, after last night, that Gabriel was still hurting when he thought of Sam. But Sam didn't think he could bring himself to say the words. Sam wanted to do the right thing, but he was older now, and through the lens of experience, the right thing wasn't so clearly visible as when he was younger. He doesn't doubt that some new threat would soon be looming on the horizon. There was always a new threat. Experience had taught him that. But that wasn't the real reason he wanted Gabriel to stick around now that all the Leviathan were dead and gone.

Gabriel and Castiel finally popped into their motel room, and Sam pretended not to notice the look of relief on Dean's face.

"Can I talk to you outside?" he asked Gabriel.

"You did good," Gabriel said to Castiel and Dean as he turned to walk out the door, and there was something wistful in his voice.

Sam forgot sometimes, seeing them like this, that angels weren't human at all. That he took for granted things they had never experienced. That there were things they didn't know, unless they were told.

"I don't want you to leave," Sam said.

"I'm a powerful being, Sam. What if I hurt you again? The bond made me lo—made me petty and jealous, and the first time we had sex, you were injured and drugged, and I liked it anyway."

"It doesn't have to be like that; it doesn't have to hurt."

"Just thinking about it hurts," Gabriel said, and okay, Sam understood that. 

"Remember how I started the apocalypse?"

"Did you want to do it again?"

There was a long pause, and a deep breath. "Yeah," Sam said. Gabriel stared at him. "Not the whole raising Lucifer thing, but I'd love to go back and feel that way again. I was invincible. I had the hottest girlfriend, and I was going to save the world."

"It's not the same. You don't have to stay, Sam. It's over. We won. Time to party hearty. You can go back to your life and forget this bond ever existed."

"What about you?"

"I'll be all right. I can still play trickster. There's room in the world yet for Loki. And if, if you ever need anything," his voice broke slightly. "Well, the bond can't be dissolved. You only have to tug on it, and I'll come. Otherwise, you can forget about me. Live your life. Hunt, don't hunt, get married, raise a passel of sharp-shooters, whatever you want."

"You can't believe I'd want that."

"What?"

"A life without you."

"I'm a lot of trouble," Gabriel said.

"I guess that's why we've always been drawn to each other," Sam said. "Because trouble always finds me."

"You're an idiot," Gabriel said.

"I'm a Winchester," Sam said. "We're not a cautious people. Are you or are you not a trickster?" Sam put his arms around him. "Roll the dice, Gabriel."

Gabriel's voice was muffled against Sam's shoulder, but he heard the words clearly. "Don't let me break you."

"I promise to stab you with your own sword if you ever try."

"You'd better," Gabriel said.

Finis

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for explicit sex, minor violence, blood-drinking.
> 
> Sam uses a lust spell on Gabriel as part of a pagan sacrifice to force Gabriel into granting him a favor. The sex is rough on Sam and the effects of the spell cause Gabriel to enjoy it.


End file.
